Tomorrow Land
by The Notorious Peter Pan
Summary: Professor Xavior sends Wolverine and Nightcrawler on a recon mission to retrieve 2 teens who claim they have important information pertaining to the Brotherhood, and insight into the more sinister aspects of the organization.
1. Chapter 1

X-MEN

TOMORROW LAND

* * *

Suds watched quietly, the people passing him, not noticing much in the way of other people, asside from themselves. They stepped out of the way of others, or banged into them, exploding past people too busy to notice or care what was going on around them. Suds only wawtched. He was good with that. Watching was a specialty; not only was he good at it, but it helped him to concentrate. Concentration was key to his plan. Soap sat next to him watching silently. She did not touch him. If she did, well, she had seen what he did to people.  
Suds leaned over to Soap. Her pale blond hair whipped harshly at the girl's face. She glanced up at him, her gaze full of love and adoration. What she did now was crucial. In order to not be discovered by the brotherhood, she had to conseal her gifts with great ardor. To use them in public as she did was dangerous. There were those around them that felt the power she exerted. Soap shifted her eyes stealthily, side to side, watching out, sensing for them. She and her brother had been working for weeks to catch up to them and their agents. In order to destroy them, they need to start from the bottom up. They had fianally reached the "up" part. Suds leaned into her, not speaking. He asked her a question. She responded with a nod. They were ready. Across the street, a young woman in her twenties walked into the Chinese laundry with a large bundle in her arms.  
Suds and Soap pushed off from the bus stop bench and crossed the street, unaware of the cars flying past them. They noticed not what was going on around, but in front, the danger they were to face. Soap reached the sidewalk first, then Suds. Yin and Yang, black and white, night and day. Soap opened the door, Suds walked through, and all hell broke loose.

* * *

Within thirty minutes, the police, state troopers, and people who worked at the Xavier institute arrived at the laundry. The time was 4:40 P.M. on a Saturday morning in October. Soap and Suds had gone in at 4:10, wiping out virtually every person in the laundry, slaughtering all but one. The woman who had walked in at 4:09 sat in a corner, whimpering. She muttered endlessly about the boy like night, the girl like day, how each had done terrible things, gotten into her head. The woman had no true identity. She had many names, many nationalities. She was one thing and everything at the same time. SHe was male, she was female, black, white, indonesian. Her current alias was Rebecca Halliburt; she was capable of creating an illusion around herself, forcing your mind to believe that the person before you was real; a psycic picture put out and created so skillfully one could never tell the difference.

* * *

Rebecca now lay on a metal table, in a freezing sterile room under the school of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. Gifted as in mutants. Professor Xavier studied her carefully, then gently placing his hands on the woman's head, searching for answers. Inside was a garbled mess of memories, information, codes, and torture. She was not psycicly damaged by the boy and girl he saw in her mind; that had been seen to by members of the brotherhood. She had been cowed, dominated, and, in simple terms, brain washed to serve and follow any order given to her by use of codeword. If she was to be asked to kill herself, she would have no choice but to; her own subconcious, so severely warped, would force her to do the deed, no matter how much it pleaded and tried not to. Rebecca was dying of a rare brain cancer, further speeded up by the tampering and damage to her neurosis; she had been convinced to speed of the process by thinking of the death by cancer constantly. The human mind was deadly powerful, and hers was in no way weak. It had taken a great deal of determination and power to destroy this woman, but what was even more wicked was the fact that she had allowed it to happen willingly over a process of several years.  
Xavier found a message within her mind, implanted skillfully by another telepath. The old baldie found himself in a square room, gray, completely sterile and forbidding. In the middle there stood a girl in her late teens. She was plain, boring, her face square, wide gray eyes, pale pink lips, white blond hair. Nothing special. Xavier stood and walked to the girl. She followed him with her eyes. He stopped in front of her, gazing intently at her plain face.  
"You have found my message. Good. My name is Tess Leon. I have created a non-threatening image in good faith so as to not frighten you.  
"I work for no one. I fight for no one. I and my brother fight to stop the brotherhood. They are hot on our trail. We are in need of your assistance. My brother is a danger to himself and others, as am I. Hurry. Neither of us have time. Chicago, Lower Wacker, 3:33 on Thursday. Second tunnel to the left. Come quickly. We have information you will need"  
The message ended and Xavier retreated from the mind of Rebecca. She was weak, unable to take another intrusion into her mind. He felt confused. Why would two teenagers wreak such havoc in order to just leave a message for him? He shook his head. There was a great deal to think about. He would send Nightcrawler and Wolverine. The two would be able to effectively deal with anything this girl and her "brother" threw at them.

* * *

Wolverine awoke sweating, his brow furrowed. He had had another dream about Jean. Instead of hovering closely, ready to kill him, she'd been wreathed in flame, tortured, screaming about how her soul and his were eternally damned as they had been linked so closely. Her red hair had whipped around her body, twining about his, burning his flesh. He put his hands to his face, wiping away tears. At least it wasn't another masochistic erotic fantasy with her writhing and ripping at his flesh as she made love to him. The thought sickened him, and yet it brought pleasure to his most prominent feature. What he would have given to be with Jean. And yet she had chosen Scott over him. Two years had passed since her death, and since that point, Professor Xavier had taken over the body of a much younger man, a vegatable. Xavier had found the man to have no mind, eventually repairing it enough to the point to be habitable. Scott had been found, a blathering, witless man, gone insane at the amount of psycic energy directed at him from Jean. She had torn apart the fragile fibers of his mind. Now Scott was in rehabilitation, rebuilding his mind, block by tedious block. Scott was a mess. So was half the nation.  
Wolverine walked to the dresser, neglecting to turn on the light. He didn't need it. Not anymore. He struggled to remember why he had woken up. Xavier. Xavier had been calling him. He was needed downstairs. He pulled on a gray sweatshirt and pants, pulling open the door and jogging swiftly down the corridors. He bumped into Nightcrawler, sneaking about.  
"Xavier call you?" Wolverine asked.  
"He did," Kurt replied. "What does he want?" Wolverine shrugged. He didn't know. Kurt walked quietly with him, his silence unnerving. Kurt's accent had lessened in the few years since he'd been at the institute, practicing his language, his skills. He had even started up a relationship with one of the other teachers here. It had ended some months before, leaving the two estranged. SHe had become paranoid that he watched her in the shower.

But Kurt wasn't that kind of person and wouldn't do that to a fellow co-worker, let alone a woman he was romantically involved with. His relationship with Ororo had grown stronger, but they were nothing more than friends, although the spark for something more was there. Ororo was now married to Black Panther. He was alright. Wolverine didn't care much for him. No one saw Ororo anymore, now that she was with child and trying to deal with her own people in her own country.  
They walked down the hall, each in their own perspective thoughts, each wondering what the dawn would bring.


	2. WELCOME TO THE TUNNELS

TOMORROW LAND

* * *

WELCOME TO THE TUNNELS

Kurt was silent, his wide, cat-like eyes searching the corners for movement in the shadows. Darkness creeped in, then receeding from the lights under doors. Lights blazed under certain rooms, in others, the sounds of bed springs squeaked silently. Kurt sighed. He'd been desirous of a sexual relationship with Molly, the woman he'd been dating for six months. That had ended badly beyond belief. He'd wanted to sink himself into her, feel her smooth skin beneath his blue fingers, lips upon lips. Many nights had been spent fantasizing about what he'd do to her to make her scream with pleasure. He rubbed his arms nervously in anticipation of what was coming. Whatever it was, it was going to be big.  
He thought about Molly, how she'd wanted more from their relationship. She hadn't understood about how he felt with his appearance. He was blue, tattoed and scarred with marks he'd made on himself while he was in the Munich Circus. There were swilrs and other abstract and geometric patterns. Ororo had called them beautiful at one point in time. That was the only thing she'd ever found beautiful about him. He'd wanted to start something, as had she, but circumstances being what they were, neither had been able to be together, what with her being a queen and him on missions all the time to save the world from mutant kind. He felt bad thinking that. Not all mutants were bad, but there were many that felt those without the mutated gene were inferior, and deserved death.  
They reached the elevator, but not before there was a loud squeak from one room and a deep groan of satisfaction. These were the teacher rooms, where several of the teachers lived together or were seeing the other. In such situations, one turned their head and ignored the sounds that eminated from under doors. Kurt wondered if Logan had been with anyone since the advent of Jean's death; it would seem as though he had not. A deep sadness filled Kurt at this thought; Logan had been nearing a state of happiness in his relationship with Jean; now that she was dead there really wasn't anyone new for Logan. He'd heard rumors and whispers behind corners about Logan visiting underground prostitution houses, and the things he did there. He shuddered. Women like that made him uncomfortable; they gawked and even the sometimes made comments about his body during the act itself. The thoughts were shoved to the side and he continued in silence.

Logan kept to himself on the elevator ride down. He didn't want to talk to anyone anymore, not after Jean. And his periodic visits to the hore houses was begining to get out. He didn't sleep with the women. He never could do that. But there was one woman who resided in the Golden Puss who looked something like Jean. The features were not exact, but they were similar and her hair was a deeper color than Jean's. The two had gotten along well, having even slept together a few times; she knew what he wanted and why he was there. She tried the best she could, but she was no Jean. The elevator dinged and both men stepped out into the entryway hallway that led off to the secret rooms and tunnels underneath Xavier's institute. Xavier stood there in the entryway, waiting for them.

"I have a very important mission that requires you to leave immediately."

* * *

24 hours and several states later...

Kurt and Logan walked along the Chicago streeTs of Lower Wacker, looking for the address Xavier had given them. It had been unnerving and hard to get used to after the discovery of Xavier still being alive, especially in a different body. The young man he'd picked looked somewhat similar to him, except the fact that he wasn't bald and that this fellow could walk. In all events, everyone was happy to have the Professor back from the dead. Kurt glanced at the slip of paper in his hand with the address. He felt they were very vague and ambiguous. There were plenty of places that fit that description in this underground system of roadways and tunnels.  
Logan stopped and sniffed. He smelled something and the scent was rotten. They'd arrived at the assigned place, ready to do business or whatever it was that they needed from these kids. All that was known was that they had important information regarding the brotherhood. It had to be a trap, surely. Kurt stopped and readied his prehensil tail; it was strong, it was powerful, and it packed one hell of a blow if you got hit with it. Logan placed a hand out behind him, warning Kurt to be on guard. Both sensed what was coming, something powerful and deadly. Logan splashed in a nearby puddle, the remains of the day's earlier rain, having dripped to the underside of the underground roads. Behind him he heard a gentle treading of feet, softly slapping the cement. He twitched his fingers in signal to Kurt. He twitched again and the signal was set. Kurt disappeared and reappeared in front of Logan, who turned quickly, unleashing the full brunt of his retractable claws almost into the persons who had been sneaking behind them.  
The person ducked, knocking Logan's arm out of the way and bringing a knife quickly up to the jugular vein pulsating madly in his throat. Logan stopped; his left arm was positioned into the neck of his assailant as the assailant's knife was into his. He locked eyes with them, getting a good, hard look. He stared down into the face of a young woman who was pretty in a delicate sense. Her eyes were dull pools of chiped blue ice and her hair was a white blond. Other than that, there were no other distinguishing features. Her face was plain and round, her lips slightly pouty, her nose pointed and thinned eyebrows. She was short but quick. Behind her stood a young man who bore similar facial features, but held no other looks to her. His hair was jet black, face plain and weathered, eyes the same color as hers. No doubt resonated in Lodan's mind they were siblings.  
"Step off Suds," came the harsh croak of the boy. Suds turned and stared with furious fervor at him; she had wanted to attack. SHe stepped off with the second look he passed her. It had been cold and commanding, fury consuming the features into that of an ugly beast. Suds stood closely to the boy, her arm wrapped protectively about his. Together they stood in shadows a perfect symphony of night and day. She stayed within the light and he stayed within the dark. Logan took his place at Kurt's side. Kurt only watched apprehensively.  
"WHo are you?" Logan asked, his voice demanding answers.  
"I'm Soap. This is Suds," the boy said plainly. He was strange, his whole manner somehow off kilter.  
"Interesting name," Logan remarked.  
"Quite," Soap replied. "We hear you have information concerning the brotherhood that you wanted to give us," Kurt said, addressing the topic they all knew had to be spoken of sooner or later.  
"We do. More information than you would know what to do with. We wanted the best people to deal with what the brother hood has been doing"  
"And what is that," Logan responded quickly, ready to strike if he had to. He was impatient and wary with the two.  
"You won't like it," Soap said. He turned and disapeared into the shadows, reappearing moments later with a girl in his arms, stumbling as she went along. It was at that particular moment that Logan took into account the full appearance of the two people before him. They were disheveled, tired, dirty, grimy, and every other gross adjective that could be attributed to their overall condition. Neither it seemed had taken a bath in a few days. Logan looked at the girl in the boys arms and realized that she was integral to what they had to tell them all.  
"Let's get out of here," Logan said, taking action and getting the five of them out of Lower Wacker.

* * *

THE INSTITUTE

They had suffered an uneasy, tense flight back to New York, and Professor Xavier. The brother and sister had watched the other girl with a close watch. Neither left her side for more than a few moments. They never conversed the entire trip, causing Nightcrawler to believe there might be more to the siblings than met the eye. He stole a glance at the girl seated between the two. From the dark sheet of deep brownish black hair that covered her face, he saw nothing. She was hidden and entirely in her own world. He eventually came to the conclusion that she was fast asleep. He could hear her soft snores all the way up into the cockpit. They landed sometime in the early morning, hiding themselves underneath the basketball court with a rumbling tremble.  
Soap and Suds were led out of the jet and into the lab where Ororo and Beast waited solemnly. Beast took the sleeping girl from the slightly alarmed face of Soap, motioning Nightcrawler to follow. Ororo and Logan were powerful enough to stop both siblings if they tried anything. Kurt followed, eyeing the girl carefully as she fit snugly in Beast's powerfully blue arms. Logan turned away as they walked through the door into another examining room.  
Ororo was six months pregnant and carying a clip board, ready to run a physical over the two now that they were in the care of the institute. No sooner had Ororo put the stethescope on did Suds begin to shake with fear. She headed for the farthest corner of the room and retreated into herself. Soap cried out in despair and shook his sistyer awake, calling her name, wanting her to awaken.


End file.
